The Benefits of Acid Rain
by Whispi
Summary: "You cannot make someone fall in love with you. They do it of their own free will." The five-year mission is almost over, and Kirk and Spock have a few things they need to say to one another. KS oneshot.


The last assignment of the five-year mission. Jim Kirk couldn't believe it; this was simply mind-blowing. He had spent every moment for the past five Earth years with these people and on this ship—it was so hard to believe that all that it would all soon end. What's more, he was avoiding thinking about what in the world he would do after that. Grim flashes of sitting a desk reading papers kept haunting his thoughts, giving him a feeling of foreboding.

His mood seemed to be affecting the entire ship as well: crewmembers went about their jobs silently and followed commands with the obedience of someone who is too caught up in his own thoughts to think about orders too much. The bridge crew in particular seemed to be in the worst state; Jim caught Uhura tearing up over the comm station the other day as she called Scotty.

To everyone but Jim, Spock seemed unaffected by the change. He went about his duties in the same controlled diligence, and he didn't speak about the impending transition more or less than was, well, quite logical. But Jim knew better than to believe the other man's façade. The way Spock's eye lingered over his science station just a bit too long, the way the Vulcan's brows drew together when he was forced to talk about the end of the mission… They were all clues of Spock's reluctance to leave the ship.

So the landing party—Spock, Uhura, a few members of the science team, a couple of ensigns, and Jim himself—was sober and businesslike as they stepped on the transporter and beamed down to a planet in the Euripedes System. There was the familiar tingling sensation of the transporter, and then Jim was standing on the rocks and craters of the planet, the Enterprise invisible beyond the atmosphere.

He took a moment to review the mission to the landing party. It was relatively simple: collect rock samples and the like from this unexplored planet and take them back to the ship for analyzing. It seemed a rather anticlimactic ending to their five years of peril together.

Jim split the party up into a few pairs and trios, grouping himself with Spock. If anyone asked, it was because he wanted his science officer's immediate opinion on everything they saw, but only Jim himself knew the real reason. He wanted time alone with Spock on a planet together with no crewmembers in the way.

Jim knew he would miss everything about the Vulcan. He could already feel it—a dull ache in his chest and a tightening of his throat. He didn't know how he could live without Spock's cool logic in the face of fire, his sparkling, intelligent eyes, his undeniable respect to everything living thing, his subtle kindness to everyone and everything, and that adorable little half-smile that made Jim positively melt—

Yes, Jim told himself wryly, I do 'have it bad.' Jim had long made known to Spock his crush on him through faint clues and sometimes not-so-subtle flirting. Spock had been rather doubtful at first, but he was more open to Jim's advances the more he realized that Jim could be trusted. In time he even began to make advances of his own.

But Spock had no idea just how deep Jim's feelings ran. Yes, Spock was Jim's crush and companion, but he was also Jim's best friend and the person he trusted more than anyone else. He was more than a best friend, not to mention extremely attractive. Love? Jim thought it could be, and thought excited and warmed him as much as it scared him.

It was these thoughts that haunted his mind as he and Spock traversed the rocky landscape. The tension between the two was palpable, and the air around crackled with electricity. Finally Spock stopped.

"Captain, I believe these rocks are of the type Starfleet requested we sample."

And so the two went about their duties with forced formality. Jim's heart ached with the thought of leaving Spock and with the thought of Spock's not knowing how Jim felt. But even more terrifying was the thought of Spock's possible rejection.

Suddenly there was a rumble from the sky. "Yes, all we need is a storm," Jim muttered, then glanced tentatively at his first officer. He was thrilled to see Spock's expression mirroring his own—in the Vulcan's slight, scaled-down sort of way.

Suddenly Spock twitched, grimacing and looking up at the sky.

"What is it, Spock?" Jim asked, all too aware that the Vulcan was in pain. Then he felt a stinging on his own wrist and snarled as the agony tore through his skin. Spock looked up at the sky again before taking Jim's wrist and pulling him swiftly toward the nearest large rock outcropping.

"It appears, Captain, that the planet's rain is some sort of acid. It would be wise to get to shelter."

Jim's next thought was, predictably, of his crew. "Spock! The landing party! Where's my communicator?"

On flipping it open he discovered it was dead. In desperation, he shook it hard. Spock's expression softened as he took the communicator from Jim, coming tauntingly close to brushing Jim's fingers. "Perhaps the atmosphere disrupts accurate communication."

"I need to get to my crew, Spock," Jim insisted, staring around hopelessly at the barren landscape.

"Captain, I would advise against staying out in this weather for longer than it takes to get to shelter. The crew of the Enterprise is smart and able-bodied. They will know to wait out the storm in a safe location."

"Alright, you win," Jim muttered, though not sullenly, as more drops of the acid hit the two men. Spurred on by the burning of the rain, the two managed to find a clean, dry cave in an outcropping of rock.

"This seems adequate," Spock commented before standing against the wall and watching as Jim tried his communicator over and over on various frequencies.

Finally Jim gave up and stood beside Spock in a defeated sort of way, and the two were silent for a long time. Suddenly Jims turned to look at Spock. "What are you going to do after this, Spock?'

Spock's gaze remained fixed on the opposite wall of the cave. "After the rain stops I plan on going back to the ship and analyzing the samples we collected."

"Spock." It was a plea and a reprimand all at once, said softly and painfully.

An internal battle seemed to wage itself in Spock's eyes. Then the Vulcan's muscles relaxed and he met Jim's eyes honestly. "I do not know, Jim. There is no place for me back on Vulcan. I have thought about signing onto another starship or getting a teaching position at Starfleet Academy."

"Wouldn't it be nice…if we could get another assignment…together?"

Spock held the eye contact, his expression hiding nothing. "Yes, Jim. It would be…not unwelcome. These five years with you have been optimal. I do not like to think about separation." His eyes then darted to the cave floor, as if he was embarrassed.

Jim held his breath. That was about as close to a warm statement from Spock as you could get. "I'd like to spend some time with you," he ventured, "after the mission."

Spock didn't reply this time; he simply let his gaze wander around the cave. Jim turned to look Spock full in the face. He had never looked so deeply into Spock's eyes before. There was the familiar inhibitions and guardedness, of course. Then, beyond that, there was intelligence, the curiosity, the respect for life that Jim so loved. Then came the kindness and warmth, the connection, the desire… They were so close, close by more than simply physical distance—

And Spock broke the connection abruptly, looking up at the ceiling. "Captain," he said, discomfort coloring his voice, "The cave roof seems to be of a sort of rock that does not hold up well in water. I think that it would be wise to"—

With a deafening crack and a bone-jarring splintering, part of the ceiling broke off right above their heads. Jim yelled as boulders showered down from above. "Spock!" He heard a suppressed cry and knew that something must have hit the Vulcan. Forgetting all about any danger to himself, he launched himself through the falling rocks, trying with all his might to reach Spock.

Finally, as the rocks stopped falling and the air cleared, he saw Spock lying limp beside a considerably large chunk of rock. A jolt of horror seemed to hit him like the boulders that had a few moments ago been raining down: was Spock dead? He lost his breath for a moment and blindly stumbled through the rubble. A sick feeling danced around in the pit of his stomach; Spock could not be dead. It went against all laws of nature. Spock was Spock. He simply did not die.

Finally Jim managed to reach Spock. His left leg was damp with green blood—Oh God, it was awful—Spock couldn't die…

And the Vulcan's eyes fluttered open. He propped himself up on his elbow and was talking to Jim, but Jim couldn't hear a word he was saying.

Complete, dizzying, crushing relief was washing through Jim like cool water. Spock was alive…

Before Jim could stop himself, he swooped down and pressed his lips to Spock's. It was like heaven, Jim thought. Spock felt so right… But something was off. Spock just wasn't responding—he had turned to stone the minute Jim's lips had met his. Jim broke away, desperately searching Spock for any sign of pleasure or at least tolerance. But in Spock's eyes was a mixture of horror, guardedness, and something else that Jim couldn't name.

Spock stood up. "Captain," he said, obviously attempting a stiff, formal tone, but his voice came out shakier than Jim had ever heard before. "This cannot occur."

Jim, mortified beyond belief and cursing himself silently, backed away and tried to think of something to explain his behavior. He felt himself shut down and go into automatic 'Captain Mode.' "My apologies, Mr. Spock. It won't happen again."

Spock turned away to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. He appeared stoic and unmoving as Jim spoke: "We'll need to see to that injury, Mr. Spock, but nothing drastic can be done until we find the ship. It looks like we'll have to wait out the storm." Normally the words would have been playful and flirtatious; now they simply sounded hollow.

Spock didn't make any reply beyond turning away and walking off into the shadows by himself. Jim mirrored his actions in another shadowy corner and stared into the acid rain, trying to pick out shapes. He couldn't believe what a horrible day this was turning out to be. After all, you didn't face leaving the Enterprise every day. Spock didn't reject you every day.

Jim felt like a heavy weight had settled in the pit of his stomach. He felt like a trainee at the Academy again after having his heart broken by his first crush. But Spock was different—he was so much more than another interesting romantic prospect. Jim could not imagine life without him. And now, because of Jim's own stupidity, Spock was probably lost forever. Consumed with self-loathing, Jim buried his head in his hands.

He wasn't sure how long he had sat like that before a warm hand descended on his shoulder. He shivered at the contact, knowing who it was before he looked up, and then forced himself back into rigid composure. He stood up quickly, almost crashing into Spock, before he noticed the Vulcan's expression—or more the fact that he was wearing one at all.

Affection, guilt, and sympathy were written all over the Vulcan's face as Spock stood before Jim. Hardly daring to hope—the hand on his shoulder must have meant something—Jim took a step toward Spock.

"I'm sorry," was all the Vulcan said as he took Jim's hand. Jim felt a thrill run through him at the contact, and he twitched his fingers inside Spock's hand. Spock, smiling with his eyes in that way he had, leaned down and brushed his lips across Jim's.

Jim was too shocked to do anything but stare, his mouth slightly open, at Spock.

"Jim, I apologize for not letting you know of my feelings sooner, and for reacting so badly today. I was simply taken aback. On the Enterprise…" The corners of Spock's mouth turned up. "The atmosphere disrupted accurate communication between us."

Jim felt a grin spreading across his face, and he did nothing to stop it. "Well, aren't we lucky we got trapped in a cave by acid rain." He looked his Vulcan full in the face. "Spock, now we can communicate all we want." And he swooped down to capture Spock in another kiss.

* * *

><p>"Take your last look, Spock," Jim said, sighing as he and his First Officer strolled the halls of the Enterprise one last time. "I don't know if we'll ever see her again."<p>

Spock had been silent, walking with his head bowed, and now his tone was weighted and heavy. "I cannot be sure, Jim, but I think we will never again step on the Enterprise."

"Why?" Jim asked in surprise, and then he grinned. "Just a feeling you have?'

Spock put on his best 'affronted look.' "Vulcans do not have feelings, Captain. We are governed simply by logic." But he halfway-smiled. "I do not think Starfleet will put us back on the Enterprise. We tend to be a liability when it comes to keeping ships and crew intact."

Jim smiled, but his face slid back into melancholy thoughtfulness a moment later. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could just…just take the Enterprise?"

"Excuse me?"

A dreamy look spread over Jim's face. "Steal the Enterprise, run off with her, explore galaxies…together…with our ship…"

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "Jim, your plan is most illogical. We could never run the Enterprise together. We would need a crew, for a start."

"Alright, you're right, as always. I would only steal the Enterprise for something extremely important. I'd bring Bones, Scotty, Chekov, Sulu…and you, of course."

Spock's eyebrow rose a bit higher. "And once again I supply the voice of logic and reason. Captain, that is impossible."

Jim shrugged, smiling at Spock's narrow perspective. "Don't you think, after five years on the Enterprise, you would have learned by now that nothing is impossible?"

Spock sighed. "An illogical human saying."

"For example," Jim said, and Spock noticed the Jim-Is-Flirting look in his eye, "at the beginning of the mission I would never have believed that I could make my stoic First Officer fall in love with me."

"You cannot make someone fall in love with you," Spock corrected, his eyes finding Jim's. "They do it of their own free will."

Jim grinned giddily, brushing Spock's fingers with his own as they entered the transporter room. "Well, Mr. Spock, we've braved Greek gods and Vulcan marriage—or rather, divorce—ceremonies"—Spock colored a delicate green—"but do you think we can face desk jobs?"

"I plan on requesting a teaching position at the Academy," Spock said. "It seems illogical…but I don't want another position on a starship."

Jim shrugged. "Maybe you're right. A few years on the ground, just to remember what it's like." He could see Spock struggling to hold back a statement to do with the illogic of Jim's words. "Maybe we could find a place together."

Spock seemed to perk up considerably. "Yes. I would…like that."

"We could get jobs at the Academy together, and we could find an apartment. On weekends we could explore San Francisco, or help each other grade papers. Maybe we could go sailing—oh, you can't swim, that's right. I'll teach you. We can buy a hovercar and take tours of historic parts of town—with parking meters and brick buildings and such. And our apartment will look right over the bay."

Spock seemed to deliberate Jim's plans. Finally he settled on one word: "Logical."

Jim grinned as they stepped on the transporter pad. Maybe they would never seek out new life and new civilizations together or discover radiant supernovas, but right now their future looked very bright. He took one last look at the room before he looked at Spock and smiled. "Energize."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review; they make my day. :) Also, I know that Kirk and Spock getting trapped in a cave is one of the biggest cliches in Star Trek Fanfiction. I just couldn't resist. :)**

**Thanks to ForbiddenLove7 for helping me revise this story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Star Trek, nor am I making any money from this story.**


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